One of my favorite outdoor rooms was furnished in a collection of teak. It was positively enchanting. The room, hidden away in a secret covered garden, overlooked a meandering brook where frogs, crickets and cicadas performed a nightly symphony.
I liked their concerto because it was a sound, smell, and vision that transported me to days of long ago when I was a pint-sized toddler dazzled by the lightning bugs that illuminated the evening sky, beside grandmother’s vintage teak outdoor furniture.
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